


Fruit

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Samandriel, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samandriel was an angel of God and he was power, he was strength and lightning and everything terrifying and safe in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fruit

Adam couldn’t move, could barely breathe. Sometimes it was easy to forget Samandriel wasn’t some scrawny teen. With Castiel there was always that reminder, the ghost of a touch on his ribs where the angel had kept him unseen. Samandriel, though, he was sweet and delicate. Only not really.

No, he was an angel. Just as Castiel and Balthazar he could smite with a touch, could blow someone apart, create a storm just because it suited his mood, could fly and burst open Adam’s ear drums and do  _everything_  an angel could because he was just that. He was an angel of God and he was power, he was strength and lightning and everything terrifying and safe in the world.

And he was seated in Adam’s lap, an arm slung over across those broad Winchester shoulders of his, a slender hand cupping his jaw. They kissed, teeth pulling at lips and tongues lapping up every bit of taste from each other’s mouths. Adam whimpered when Samandriel sucked his tongue hard, almost painfully, right at the same time that he clenched. Dirty fucking trick.

Then he pulled up and pushed back down, easy flow a give and take that made him think of the flutter of wings, the way the air moved around invisible feathers. His skin was too hot, Samandriel’s eyes were glowing, the angel barely containing himself. Not that he needed to. Adam had survived Michael, there was probably very little Samandriel could really do to him in the end.

The angle was just right, perfect mixture of tight and slick. Adam’s breath hitched and he grasped desperately at Samandriel’s thigh with the hand not clawing into his back.

“Just like that, just like that.” Their mouths met, voices mingling when the angle was perfect again.

Samandriel threw his head back, rhythm going faster. So fucking close. “It feels…”

“Yeah.” Adam bit his neck, sucking on his throat, too wound up to consider the hilarity of the fact the was laving over an angel’s  _Adam’s_  apple. Samandriel was original sin and redemption, sweetest sugars from forbidden fruit and the bitter sting of dejection and sacrificial lambs.

And maybe he’d spent too much time with an archangel in his head to have so many damned metaphors and religious symbolism bogging him down. But as Samandriel screamed his name, releasing across his chest and up to his neck, he couldn’t care. For the first time since he’d felt the raw holy power of Michael himself thrumming in his skin, Adam felt whole and alive. He found a new will to survive and soldier on when Samandriel smiled to him like that, sated and blissed out.

A few seconds more and Adam followed him, orgasm making his hair stand on end as he pulled his little angel suffocatingly close. Lips pressed into his temple, a curious tongue licking up sweat. The room settled around them but the familiar ache of being incomplete never came back.

Samandriel kissed him chastely. “You’re mine now.”

And he was.


End file.
